Observational Skills
by XiaoDui
Summary: For the life and or ghost! of him, Jack Fenton just could NOT figure out what day he seems to have forgotten . . . Happy Father's Day!


**SUMMARY:**_ For the life (and or ghost) of him, Jack Fenton just could not figure out what day he seemed to have forgotten . . . Happy Father's Day!_

_**Observational 'Skills'**_

Jack Fenton grunted as he collapsed onto the Fenton Couch™. Once he sufficiently relaxed – plate of assorted fudges and cookies in hand, neatly decorated and cut like little ghosties as they should be! – he sighed happily and grinned at his son.

He had no clue _why_, but for once fourteen-year-old Danny _hadn't_ objected to spending his Sunday – usually spent with his two best friends – down in the lab with him. In fact, his son had brightened up when asked, and had seemed almost eager to help (it faded somewhat when he was showed the blueprints for the next Fenton Invention, but otherwise seemed fine). Normally, the freshman avoided the Fenton Lab™ like the plague, but today . . .

Jack knew he had a terrible memory for appointments and such. What was today?

Fourth of July? Nah . . . for one, it wasn't July. Besides, he'd know if it was the Fourth of July. Danny's friends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley _always_ came over, and would disappear up to the Fenton OPS-Center™. The trio would then proceed to give the town a spectacular fireworks show, even if the predominant colors were a vivid green and pale blue. Ah well. His favorites were always the ones that whistled!

What was the question again?

Oh, right. Day.

. . . oh, but Maddie had already told him a good fifty-three times that Opposite Day wasn't real and to go play with his Fenton Ecto-Gun™.

Maybe he should ask again . . . ?

He watched Danny assemble a Fenton Ecto-Gun™ fairly quickly, and beamed back when his son and youngest child presented him the finished product with a wide grin.

After amusing himself with watching the teen contemplate the prints for the complicated Fenton Bazooka™, Jack finally asked "Hey, Danny . . . what day is it today?"

Danny paused to blink at him, obviously surprised. "You mean you don't know? Did you forget again?"

Jack cheerfully nodded a response.

Danny raised an eyebrow, but simply shrugged. "Eh, okay." The teen abandoned the parts to the Fenton Bazooka™, pulling over his mother's Fenton Laptop™. He tapped away at the keyboard, then leaned back as a song played out the speakers.

_Driving through town, just my boy and me_

_With a Happy Meal in his booster seat_

_Knowing that he couldn't have the toy 'till his nuggets were gone_

_A green traffic light turned straight to red_

_I hit the brakes and mumbled under my breath_

_His fries went flying and his orange drink covered my lap_

_And then my four-year-old said a four-letter word_

_That started with 'S', and I was concerned_

_So I said "Son, now where'd you learn to talk like that?"_

_He said "I been watching you, Dad, ain't that cool_

_I'm your buckaroo, I wanna be like you_

_And eat all my food, and grow as tall as you are_

_We got cowboy boots and camo pants_

_Yeah, we're just alike, hey, ain't we Dad?_

_I wanna do everything you do . . ._

_So I been watching you!"_

_We got back home and I went to the barn_

_I bowed my head and I prayed real hard_

_I said "Lord, please help me help my stupid self!"_

_Just this side of bedtime later that night_

_Turning on my son's Scooby-Doo nightlight_

_He crawled out of bed and he got down on his knees_

_He closed his little eyes and folded his little hands_

_And spoke to God like he was talking to a friend_

_And I said "Son, now where'd you learn to pray like that?"_

_He said "I been watching you, Dad, ain't that cool_

_I'm your buckaroo, I wanna be like you_

_And eat all my good, and grow as tall as you are_

_We like fixing things and holding Momma's hand_

_Yeah, we're just alike, hey, ain't we Dad?_

_I wanna do everything you do . . ._

_So I been watching you!"_

_With tears in my eyes, I wrapped him in a hug_

_Said "My little bear is growing up!"_

_And he said "But when I'm big_

_I'll still know what to do . . ._

'_Cause I been watching you_

_Dad, ain't that cool?_

_I'm your buckaroo, I wanna be like you!_

_And eat all my food!_

_And grow as tall as you are!_

_I bet I'll be strong as Superman_

_We'll be just alike, hey, won't we Dad?_

_When I can do everything you do!_

'_Cause I been watching you!"_

Jack blinked, still not quite getting it as the song's vocals died down, or even as the next song began to play.

Danny watched him a moment or two, expectant. When the huge inventor and father gave no sign of comprehension, the teen sighed, giving a small grin as he opened his mouth to say something.

Jack's daughter and eldest Jazz came rushing down the stairs, cutting her brother off.

"Happy Father's Day, Daddy!" the psychologist-to-be chirruped cheerfully, then took one look at Danny's face before fleeing back upstairs.

Danny booked it after her.

"JAZZ! No fair, _I_ was about to tell him, geez! _HEY_ – FIGHT FAIR!"

"Oh, but it's just the Spector Deflector™!"

"_JAZZ!_"

Jack sighed. A typical day in the Fenton Household™, he supposed . . .

. . . but couldn't Danny have finished the Fenton Bazooka™ for him before rushing upstairs? He'd need it to catch that pesky ghost kid later!


End file.
